Tingo
by Light-and-Smoke
Summary: A series of chapters based upon meanings of words in various languages, all sourced from 'The Meaning of Tingo' Slightly Arthur and Ariadne oriented.
1. Puangi

This should technically be called 'I was studying for exams and got distracted...and this popped out'

Warning! It is only meant to be fun and games from me. I was reading 'The Meaning of Tingo' and 'Tojour Tingo' by Adam Jacot de Boinod, and got inspired by the amazing words.

Now before anyone says 'They had a week for that level, so how come they were "tipped out" early?' - I know its illogical, I just couldn't get over the idea of the air hostess having to upend them all onto the floor to serve as a kick, so I wrote this. Bear with me, please?

This will be the only disclaimer that will serve for the rest of the story:  
>I Do Not Own Inception. That genius belongs to Christopher Nolan, not I.<p>

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><p><strong>Puangi – (Cook Islands Maori) the sensation of the stomach dropping away (as in the sudden surge of a lift, plane, swing or a tossed boat)<strong>

Arthur, Ariadne and Yusuf looked out towards the large ripples spreading across the river, mixing with the patterns created by the steadily beating rain. Arthur felt an accompanying sinking feeling.

"Cobb's not going to make it."

"No, he'll be right." Ariadne said, with a certainty that was frightening.

Further across the shore, Robert Fischer obliviously continued to tell Browning/Eames his plans. Till suddenly, Eames lurched backwards of his own accord and, without a word, mid fall, disappeared into thin air.

"What's happening now?" Ariadne asked.

Arthur glanced around. "The kick back. I'll be going next. Robert and Yusuf will be aft-" He didn't get the chance to finish his words as he too was knocked back without warning, and vanished.

Yusuf looked at Ariadne with a reassuring gaze. "Just relax, Ariadne. It makes it easier to wake up. And be ready for a queasy feeling, its exactly like – "

Ariadne was knocked back and disappeared, leaving Yusuf to finish his sentence to the rainy city.

Ariadne could only describe the feeling as the sensation of missing a step or miscalculating the stairs. Your body lurches forward, uncertain. It wasn't like other falling dreams where you woke on impact. It was like a ghost pushing you swiftly, and cartoon-like.

She awoke on the floor, Arthur already by her side and gently removing the IV for her. Eames was helping the air hostess hoist Cobb's form and tip him into the aisle. Saito was already there on the floor nearby, still asleep. The sight was frightening even to the untrained dreamer.

"He didn't wake?" She asked.

Arthur understood the further questions behind that. "No. Limbo is a state of mind akin to a coma. A kick is far too weak to be felt at such a level."

"So will they wake up?"

"We'll find out when their time is up."

Cobb lay where he was sprawled on the floor. Arthur and Eames liften him up and back to his seat while Ariadne moved with the air hostess to Fischer. He was carefully tipped onto the floor, relieved of his IV and any evidence, and placed back in his seat. After Yusuf was woken, confirmed that Robert had been kicked from the dream. His sedative hadn't worn off yet.

All of the team, either conscious or otherwise, they returned to their seats and waited the flight out. Ariadne nervously chewed her lip, still aware of that sinking feeling stuck in her abdomen.

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><p>Reviews are love :)<br>Light-and-Smoke


	2. Nglayap

**Nglayap (Indonesian) – to wander far from home with no particular purpose.**

Edward Ames had always been a wanderer. His mother had moved around from place to place when he was young, and so it had set in his growing bones like a mantra 'Keep moving, never settle'. As a small child he had taken to wandering off through open doors as fast as his little legs could carry him, toddling down to the edge of the garden or to the neighbors front lawn, seeing a brighter world till his mother would find him and scoop him up to bring him home, wherever home was for a few months at a time.

At the age of seventeen, though he loved his mother very dearly – a mummies boy through and through – he took up with a roving gypsy circus, eager to see more of the world. He learnt how crowds behaved, how to keep people occupied while tricking them all along. One of the crew taught him how to forge dollar bills, and his love was sparked. A love that combined art and mimicry and replication and adrenaline and a need to constantly wander that mirrored him to perfection.

When the gypsies reached London, he hit the streets, trying out his new tricks. It only landed him in a fight where he earned his first real scar, a trademark ugly criss-cross of marks on his shoulder blade from one of the notorious gangs. Rather than let them get away with it, he retaliated with his own fists. He was taken in with the gang, who gave him more skills in street fighting which he adapted to his own style.

However, he could not be kept for long, always wanted to move. His reason came one night when the gang robbed a rich banker, leaving him for dead in an alleyway. Eames fled with more than his fair share, buying the first plane out of England in cash.

He wound up in Vegas, coincidentally, where he continued his skills in forgery. A mob boss caught him, but Eames once again got lucky as he charmed his way into the mob to learn more. He was able to develop his hand at forging official documents, gradually stealing seals and papers for his own supply and demand. He was a favorite in the mob scene for his fighting and forgery, but he kept his ears open for any sign that they knew. It was because of this that he stumbled across shared dreaming. The mob boss was keen on the idea that one could steal ideas and secrets straight from a mans head. He was also fearful about being attacked himself, in dreams where he was most vulnerable. He refused to go under alone. Eames was sent in with him.

Eames knew the instant they were in a dream. His scar was missing. He loved how one could control dreams, move from location to location in an instant, fooling everyone, and the adrenaline being chased gave you. But he didn't like the way his mind could easily give information away.

Rather than wait for the mob to start questioning him and find out he had been stealing from them, he quietly slipped away to a different scene – Asia. Now more aware than ever how vulnerable he was, Eames kept a look our for shared dreaming, while also trying to build up his skills properly. He trained in martial arts, combat, kung fu, any fighting style he was able to learn and adapt to his own style. He earned a reputation as 'the Wolf' among trainers, and so he chose a wolf as a tattoo to cover the scar from his earlier years, always aware of his own past and who might be following him.

Becoming restless again, he flew out to Mombasa. It was there that he rediscovered dream-sharing, and learnt as much about it as he could. He found his natural skills of forgery easily crossed over, and he was able to use them in ways no other dreamer had before.

Eventually an extractor named Dominic Cobb offered him an 'job' in which he could travel, forge, steal, and earn money fast for only one 'job' after which he _had _to, not wanted to, disappear again till any other job came up. His career span with Cobb, insufferable Arthur and the lovely Mal began.


	3. Selathirupavar

**Selathirupavar – (Tamil) a word used to define a certain type of absence without official leave in the face of duty.**

Arthur was always good. He had followed his path very neatly and orderly. Grow up. High school. University. Join the armed forces. Just like his father. Just like his grandfather. Just like his great-grandfather. Arthur came from a long line of intelligent, forceful, driven men. None had left the army. None had any other career. None had left without orders. All were decorated soldiers. It had been ingrained in him since birth. He had played with toy planes and soldiers since he was small. A battered old box of the 'Army Game' sat in the cupboard. His brother had played game after game of Battleships with him. Arthur had been in cadets and had taken all of the necessary courses and classes needed, and had perfect marks, save a few dropped marks that he wasn't ever allowed to forget and that one university incident that was never mentioned again. Joining the army was expected. Arthur aced all the training routines, hand-to-hand combat, flight simulators and target practice.

And then, on the 28th February, he disappeared without a trace. His bunker was clean and tidy like the day he arrived. Not a trace of him was left. It was as if he had never arrived, had never existed. The officials called home only once, not wanting to disturb his family more than necessary. Arthur was recorded as missing without leave, 28th February.

What they never took into account was a visit 2 days previously. David O'Brian, a professor from Notre Dame who had invented a device that allowed people to share lucid dreams and control them, had arrived to show a select group of soldiers a new form of training in their mind. One such promising soldier was Arthur. The next day, he had tracked David O'Brian down and convinced the professor to train him in all there was to know about dreaming and its possibilities. Arthur, already beginning to understand how he would be living his life in secrecy now, left without a word.


	4. Kyoikumama

**Kyoikumama – (Japanese) A mother who relentlessly pushes her children towards academic achievement.**

When Cobb recruited Ariadne, Arthur naturally did a background check. It was part of his job, it was what was required of him. Not doing so had cost them a job and an entire island nation they were no longer permitted to visit. So he ran a search and printed off her school files, medical records, employments. After reading through the documents, he raised his eyebrows and added her police records and psychologist papers after more digging and hacking into accounts.

St Clara's Anglican Girls School  
>282 Penvill Road<br>312 8225

Name: Millers, Ariadne Claudia  
>Gender: Female<br>Date of Birth: 10/10/1986  
>Status: Graduated, June 2004<br>GPA: 97.61

2004 Report Card: (Quarter 1, Quarter 2, Quarter 3, Quarter 4)  
>Engish – 98-97-97-100<br>Biology – 78-81-99-100  
>History – 60-88-91-97<br>French – 100-96-98-99  
>Mathematics – 93-91-97-100<br>Health – 90-90-100-102  
>Visual Communication and Design – 98-101-100-100<p>

Absences: 0  
>Tardies: 0<p>

Teacher comments:  
>English – A bright, excellent student.<br>Biology – Lovely presence. Hard worker.  
>History – Excelled when she needed it most.<br>French – Excellent!  
>Mathematics – One of the brightest. A real natural.<br>Health – Wonderful worker. Needs to concentrate more.  
>Visual Communication and Design – Cannot fault. Bright future ahead of her!<p>

Detention Card from Our Lady Immaculate  
>Name: Ariadne Millers<br>Date: 3/5/02  
>Reason for Detention: Caught smoking in the bathroom during Health with a group of other students and three males. When asked what they were doing, Miss Millers attempted to explain the benefits of experimentation.<br>Date of Detention: Wednesday 3/6/02, Thursday 3/7/02, Friday 3/8/02

Principal Signature: Claire Taylor  
>Parent Signature: Rachel Millers<br>Student Signature: (drawing of paradise island)

Employment Record – Food for Thought Bakery  
>517/01  
>Surname: Millers<br>Given Name(s): Ariadne Claudia  
>Address: 64 Berkley Street, Boston, SA<br>Date of Birth: 10 October, 1986  
>Occupation: Student at Our Lady Immaculate<br>Next of kin: Rachel Millers  
>Address: As above<br>Next of kin: Samuel Millers  
>Address: As above<br>Status: Approved

Employment Record – Gardens Glory, Aged Care Facility  
>0120/03  
>Surname: Millers<br>Given Name(s): Ariadne Claudia  
>Address: 64 Berkley Street, Boston, SA<br>Date of Birth: 10 October, 1986  
>Occupation: Student at St Clara's Anglican Girls School<br>Next of kin: Rachel Millers  
>Address: As above<br>Next of kin: Samuel Millers  
>Address: As above<br>Status: Approved

Employment Record – Café de Vie  
>0902/04  
>Surname: Millers<br>Given Name(s): Ariadne Claudia  
>Address: Block 3, Paradise Hostel, 12 Vue de Lis, Paris, France<br>Date of Birth: 10 October, 1986  
>Occupation: Student<br>Next of kin: -  
>Address: -<br>Status: Approved

Police Record  
>Date: 1027/02  
>Surname: Millers<br>Given Name(s): Ariadne Claudia  
>Address: 64 Berkley Street, Boston, SA<br>Date of Birth: 10 October, 1986  
>Occupation: Student at Our Lady Immaculate<br>Height: 5' 1"  
>Weight: 97lb<br>Contacts:  
>Name: Samuel Millers<br>Address: As stated above  
>Occupation: Legal Consultant<br>Relation: Father  
>Name: Rachel Millers<br>Address: As stated above  
>Occupation: Teacher<br>Relation: Mother

Millers, Ariadne Claudia is charged with the following criminal offence(s):  
>Breaking and Entering<br>Public Drunkenness  
>Underage Drinking<p>

Account of the event(s): Subject was caught in an abandoned house. The subject had picked the lock. In addition, the subject had accomplices; Maria Finn, Jude Dowling, Paul Reamer and Steven Tingley, two of whom were repeat offenders. The above mentioned were all seated on the floor, sharing a bottle of Jack Daniels. The offender was also vandelising the property, drawing and writing on the walls and floors. The offender did not seem surprised or fearful when the police arrived on scene, nor did she refuse to leave with the police, nor has she shown any remorse for her actions. As for any motive availing to why these offenses occurred, there seems to be no reason. To wit, when asked, the offender claims "I was bored and reckless. Can my mother please be uninformed of these proceedings?" The above request was denied.

Signed: Sergent Jackson Howes

Records of: Dr Stacy Bartell  
>In regards to patient: Ariadne (Claudia) Millers<br>Date of Birth: 10/10/86  
>Doctor since: 1010/86  
>Records note that doctor also consulted patients kin: Rachel Millers before patients birth date.<br>Four notable accounts:  
>1203/92 – Patient had (1) case of (chicken pox). Treated with (Acyclovir) followed by a vaccination (5 months later).  
>0717/98 – Patient had (1) case of (walking pnumonia). Treated with (Clarithromycin tablets).  
>1030/02 – Patient was referred to a psycologist, Dr Stephanie White. Records of the undergoings of this of these meetings have been withheld for patient confidentiality.  
>0615/04 – Patient was diagnosed with (iron deficiency). Prescribed with (iron suppliments). Discontinued use (01/03/05).

11/04/02  
>Session 4 – Dr Stephanie White<br>Patient: Ariadne Claudia Millers

DSW: So, Ariadne, this is your second session without your mother present. Are you more comfortable now?  
>AM: No<br>DSW: Why not?  
>AM: Cause I don't want anyone probing around my head trying to find out whats wrong with me.<br>DSW: Is there something wrong with you?  
>AM: Yes.<br>DSW: Can you define it for me?  
>AM: Yes. My parents.<br>DSW: Do you feel like they are discouraging you?  
>AM: They don't understand. They want me to be a therapist. I don't.<br>DSW: And why is that?  
>AM: Have you looked in a mirror? I want to live!<p>

Notes: Subject seems uncomfortable and aggressive. Very wounded, will lash out at others easily. Stubborn and tempered. Prescribing anti-depressants.

14/01/03  
>Session 18 – Dr Stephanie White<br>Patient: Ariadne Claudia Millers

DSW: Good morning, Ariadne.  
>AM: Good morning doct – sorry – Stephanie.<br>DSW: How are you feeling today?  
>AM: Wonderful.<br>DSW: I can tell, you have such a lovely smile.  
>AM: I can feel myself smiling a lot more nowadays.<br>DSW: And why is that?  
>AM: Everything is just great! I feel so terrific! And my parents are so happy.<br>DSW: Do you understand what they want from you now, Ariadne?  
>AM: Yes. I'm enrolling at St Clara's next year, to work towards being a therapist. Its what they tell me is best for me. Its what I want.<p>

Notes: Subject seems bright, bubbly, energetic. Anti-depressants still prescribed.

Enrollment records: Notre Dame  
>0617/04  
>Name: Ariadne Millers<br>Date of Birth: 10/10/86  
>Address: 64 Berkley Street, Boston, SA<br>*Note – Address has been changed to: 32 Apartment 3a Vue le Basque, Paris, France (as of 11/19/04)  
>Course: Architecture, Scholarship program<br>Next of kin: -  
>Address: -<br>Contact: -  
>Medical forms: Attached<br>Past enrollments: Attached  
>Status: Approved<p>

Police Records  
>Dated: 0822/04  
>Missing Persons Report<br>Name: Ariadne Claudia Millers  
>Date of Birth: 10th October, 1986<br>Height: 5' 1"  
>Weight: 97lb<br>Eye colour: Brown  
>Hair Colour: Chestnut<br>Shoe size: 7  
>Last seen: 0820/04

Details: Subject appeared to be living as normal until her disappearance on the afternoon of the 20th August 2004. Police have no leads so far.

Medical Notes: Subject had been prescribed anti-depressants since 4th November 2002. On inspection of the subjects room, a draw full of this medication was found, dating from the prescribed time to the present. Parents had no knowledge of this discontinuation of use.

Contacts:  
>Name: Samuel Millers<br>Address: As stated above  
>Occupation: Legal Consultant<br>Relation: Father  
>Name: Rachel Millers<br>Address: As stated above  
>Occupation: Teacher<br>Relation: Mother

*Note: Claim discontinued, search called off by the Millers on 10th September, 2004. Subject in France. No suspicious activity.

Signed: Detective Inspector Warren Larkman


	5. Iktsuarpok

**Iktsuarpok (Inuit) – to go outside often to see if someone is coming**

Ariadne had been a very good caretaker for her grandmother before she'd passed away. She understood the little old ladies antics, her insistence on 3 ply tissues with aloe vera, and her method for washing and folding clothes. One thing Ariadne had always found amusing was how every time the old nonna was expecting someone, she would peek through the blinds every five minutes till they arrived. She would then scold them for being late: often unnecessarily since she had misunderstood what time they would be arriving.

As time progressed and her sight grew dimmer, her grandmother began to venture outside to check whether her guests had arrived. Even later still, she started to send Ariadne out to check for her. Bewildered amused, but kind, Ariande would do as she was bid.

She never understood till now.

The job went sour. The terrible trio – Eames, Arthur and Ariadne – had bolted for the safe house through various routes once they had awoken. Eames and Ariadne had made it within fifteen minutes of each other.

Arthur was two hours late.

Ariadne flitted, restles, pacing quietly around the house, checking the windows, back door and front porch. Eames had only intervened by preventing her from marching down the driveway to sit by the entrance, before he sat down in the armchair he had insisted be carted over from Bristol just for his comfort. There he had stayed for two hours, fidgeting with a Rubix cube to keep his mind occupied. Ariadne twisted around him, carving her own maze through the house, leaving restless air in her wake.

As two hours wore into three, Ariadne stopped going outside often to check if he was walking up the drive. Instead, she sat on the porch rail, drawing circular mazes again and again in her notebook.

Finally, she glanced up as she had been every five minutes to see a familiar figure walking up the slope. Dropping pad and pen, she sprinted towards him, gladly enveloping herself in his arms and aura.

Eames watched through the lounge window with a grin.


	6. Uttori

**Uttori (Japanese) – to be enraptured by the loveliness of something.**

Ariadne exhaled moodily, rotating her maze to view it from another angle. When she became very frusterated, her brows knitted together to form a dimple in the centre of her forehead At least that was what Arthur had gathered through his informal watch of her everyday activities. He didn't make a big deal of it, he simply took note of every moment he happened to catch.

Only he didn't know he was being watched as well.

Saito studied the younger man's face, not as blank as usual, but calm, as he watched the architect at work. He noticed Arthurs dark eyes took in the intelligence seeping from her mind as she worked. A small, minuscule smile lifted his mouth from its grim set as Ariadne twisted her hair about absent mindedly, tracing routes with her finger. Suddenly, she sat upright, scribbling a line out and adding three new ones. Double-checking her own work, she grinned to herself. Looking up to Arthur to seek his approval first, she widened her eyes in delight. He smiled at her, a small one to be sure, but an honesty on that reached his eyes. She beamed in return.

Saito had seen a glimpse of her radiance was before, but now he saw it through the power of Arthurs gaze – she was glowing with loveliness.

Clearing his throat slightly, he spoke to Arthur again.

"Arthur." The polite murmur didn't grab his attention.

"Mr Tager."

Arthur jerked up in his seat, all four lets of the chair now on the ground. He blinked at Saito in surprise before regaining his composure and returning to their private discussion of Fischer-Morrow.


	7. Eshta thike me thike

**Eshta thike me thike – (Albanian) to stand toenail to toenail (prior to an argument)**

"I was surprised to get your call, Ariadne." Arthur commented over the rim of his espresso macchiato. Ariadne had smiled slightly when he ordered the drink – figured that the dangerous, quiet Point Man would drink such a strong coffee.

The Architect brought herself swiftly back to the topic at hand, stirring two sugars into her latte. "Well, its been a few months, and I'm finishing college soon."

Fischer had announced his plans to split his fathers empire a month after the fateful plane ride, and the team had all agreed to lie low for two months without contact. Arthur had assumed he wouldn't hear from the Parisian woman again.

"How's the course going?"

"Its good…very boring." Ariadne admitted.

Arthur smirked. "Well, life's like that after what we've done."

"How have you been?" Ariadne asked.

"Same as you. Bored."

"No jobs?"

"Nothing. I've had to sit down and be quiet, for a change."

Ariadne laughed slightly at that. Arthur almost smiled in response, then sobered up again.

"So did you want to know about Cobb? Eames? Yusuf? You would know how Saito is through the papers."

The milti-billion dollar Japanese businessman had practically bloomed overnight into the giant of the power industry. He was doing very well, in terms of the aftermath of the dream flight.

Ariadne shook her head. "That wasn't why I called…but how is everyone? Do you know?"

Arthur quirked an eyebrow at her. "Its my job to know. Cobb is happy, reunited and reintergrading with his children. The happy father lifestyle is agreeing with him much more than what he used to do."

Ariadne could only imagine.

"Eames is fine. Most likely gambled all his money away by now. And Yusuf is back to his old chemist trade in his shop. He missed his cat too much."

Ariadne smiled. "Of course. He's not the wandering type, Yusuf."

"No, he really isn't. That lifestyle doesn't suit him."

Ariadne bit the bullet. "That's why I called, Arthur."

"About Yusuf's lifestyle?"

"No. About…a future career choice for me."

Arthurs face, if possible, became stonier. "Oh."

"Yeah," Ariadne wasn't so sure of this plan anymore. But she persevered. "I'd like to know more about – "

"Ariadne, can we not discuss this right here and now?"

Ariadne recalled their surroundings – a bright and busy café – and agreed. They sat in tense silence and finished their coffee, before standing to leave.

"So," Ariadne began.

"My apartments' around the corner. Arthur said, walking ahead of her. Ariadne suddenly felt much more nervous than she should be.

They remained silent for the walk to the door and up the stairs. He ushered her through to his modern, polished apartment, and smoothly closed the door behind them.

Ariadne studied the room to distract her from her nerves. Shining wooden floors, sleek black marble counters in the kitchen to contrast with the mahogany wood. Light poured in from the full length windows that displayed a view of the treetops of the neighboring park from the balcony. The furniture was all sleek lines. It looked like Arthurs style, only not lived in.

He walked past her, wavering slightly, uncertain whether to sit or stand for this discussion. Ariadne stood firmly in place, determined.

"So." He began.

"Before you tell me this is a bad idea, Arthur, I've weighted up the pros and cons. I just need more information."

Arthur set his jaw. "There isn't much you need to know. I don't think this is the right career for you, Ariadne."

His stone words only made her resolve stronger. "I've talked to Eames and Miles, and they've both allowed me to make my own choice. But they both said I would be suited to the job."

Something inside Arthur twinged at the knowledge that he hadn't been the first to know, and he was alarmed that he couldn't tell if it was due to his nature as a Point Man or something else entirely.

"This isn't some cushy job for a college kid. People are killed in this industry."

Ariadne sucked in a deep breath at the college kid remark. "I've made my own choice here, Arthur. Respect the fact that I've come to you for more research and let me make my own opinions."

"No."

"What?" Ariadne asked incredulously, unable to believe his behaviour. She stepped forward to make sure she had heard him correctly, and he mistook it as anger, stepping forth to meet her in the argument.

"No. This isn't the place for a young woman."

Her hands curled into fists. "Gender politics? Really? I expected more from you, Arthur."

He blinked in a manner that made her think he was mentally cursing himself.

"This isn't the place for someone who cant protect themselves."

She stood so close to him that she wanted to stamp childishly on his foot to prove her strength.

"I can protect myself. You have no idea."

"I doubt it."

Ariadne swung her fist towards his face, but his sharp reflexes made him catch her wrist before it made contact. Their eyes locked, fierce and energized. Ariadne was the first to break, not wanting him to win just because his eyes caused her insides to catch fire. She looked down briefly. Their toes were almost touching, every inch of their bodies so close, but the only true touch was that restrictive hand.

She raised her eyes to his again, this time icy to match his heat. Ariadne wrenched her wrist from his and stalked out.


	8. Nito onna

**Nito-onna (Japanese) – a woman who is so dedicated to her career that she has no time to iron her blouses and so resorts to dressing only in knitted tops.**

Arthur, Eames and Cobb had all grown used to a certain phenomenon that came with dreams and Ariande.

The normal part would always be in the middle of the job, when Ariadne dressed in the same jeans-and-tee-shirt combination they had grown used to on the Inception job.

What they couldn't quite grasp was a fact that Ariadne took very lightly: she liked to dress well. She liked fashion and femininity; she was living in the heart of Paris after all. And so, when she wasn't working, or busy, Ariadne dressed in skirts and dresses, jeans with beautiful flowing blouses that still allowed her to move, still spoke volumes about her happy, friendly, girl-next-door personality, but gave her grace and elegance beyond her years.

The first time they had seen her after the job was at Cobbs, where he had invited them all over for a late celebration once the necessary three months of contact had passed. The team did a double take to make sure that they hadn't mistaken the Architect for another woman.

Ariadne liked clothes. She just found little time to be spent on her appearance on a job. For why waste time that could be spent on her ideas? So she wore the bare necessities that could be thrown from her to the wash and back. She never did have good time management skills anyway.


	9. Saint Glinglin

**Saint-Glinglin – (French) a date that is put off indefinitely, shortened from **_**jusqu a la Saint-Glinglin**_** – never in a month of Sundays.**

Eames had very few past times he could afford to do continuously that gave him pleasure. Luckily, one of his favorites took no money at all, and was almost as enjoyable as any of his other hobbies. Badgering Arthur.

"When are you going to grow a pair?" He commented as Arthur worked.

"What do you mean, Eames?" Arthur asked, exhausted, knowing Eames was far more likely to leave sooner if he went along with whatever he was planning.

"Ask out Ariadne. I know your definition of a date is over a century old, but she may enjoy it, nevertheless."

"Thanks, Eames. As always, your advice is appreciated."

"Does that mean you're going to do it, then?"

"Go _away._"

"Its not hard. I do it all the time."

"Yes, but you also get slapped by women a lot. And men too."

"Your point being?"

"I'd never take advice from you. Not in a month of Sundays."

Eames shrugged. "Suit yourself."

He hopped off his perch on Arthurs desk and strode over to Ariadne's work bench, where the Architect was sketching, headphones on, oblivious. Arthur watched in his most casual manner.

"Ariadne," Eames stood by her desk till she noticed him and pressed a button on her iPod.

"Eames?"

He had settled against her desk in what could only be assumed was his most charming pose.

"Ariadne, darling, come out to dinner with me."

She shrugged. "Sure. It'd be nice to have a Team dinner."

"No, not a team dinner. Just you. And me. _Alone_."

"Oh." Her face was blank, and for a millisecond, Arthur's stomach dropped.

Ariadne smiled. "You're cute, Eames."

"So is that a yes?"

She laughed, resettling into her seat more firmly. "No."

"It's a no?"

Ariadne held up her headphones.

"Not in a month of Sundays."

She continued to sketch, music in her ears, so she missed the smirk Arthur directed towards Eames, and the slightly dejected response of "Oh, shut it, you ass." he sent back in return.


	10. Ngarong

**Ngarong – (Dyak, Borneo) an adviser who appears in a dream and clarifies a problem.**

Ariadne sat in a café with Arthur, sipping a latte that never sunk past the half-full point, and remained hot despite the time that passed as they sat there. She tried, fairly unsuccessfully, to watch Mr Eames as casually as possible.

"Stop that," Arthur murmured in a tone that persuaded Ariadne not to scowl at him for ordering her around. He smoothly turned a page of his paper, keeping watch on Eames in such a discrete manner that he seemed utterly absorbed by the odd words printed in the imaginative articles.

"We need to draw as little attention to him as possible. You watching him like a hawk will only give the projections more reason to attack him."

Ariadne gritted her teeth. She picked up her cup in an attempt to look carefree.

"I was not watching him like a hawk."

"Perhaps like a falcon, then." Arthur quipped, straightfaced.

Ariadne bit back a snort. "You're insulting me."

"My apologies. You're watching him like a swan."

A few marigolds started to slowly bloom in the flowerpots nearby. Eames, in the form of an elderly gentleman, shot Ariadne, the dreamer, a glare. She slowly shifted her legs, trying to blend in while also preparing to run if necessary.

"So which move is this again?"

"The Guru."

"Which is?"

"Eames appears in the form of a deceased relative or someone the mark respected. He gives them advice, its implemented into the brain, and when the mark wakes up, he believes it's a dream where he has been visited by a spirit, or that his brain has conjured up an idea he is not only expected, but obligated to carry out."

"Very elegant."

"Eames thought it up."

"Of course."

Arthur almost glanced up at her to see if her expression mathed the glowing admiration in her voice, but caught himself.


	11. Bei gong she ying

**Bei gong she ying – (Chinese) worrying about things that aren't there (literally seeing the reflection of a bow in a cup and thinking it's a snake).**

The days after Inception were rough for Ariadne. She was booked into a nice hotel for a week after they landed in LA, just to make sure that none of the team would be linked to Fischers decision. She was slightly suspicious of reality and afraid to sleep, for fear of what might still be lurking in her dreams. She didn't sleep for three days, attempting to occupy her mind with menial tasks, till she finally succumbed to exhaustion and slept.

Ariadne woke from the dream with a gasp, filled with fear and yet not fully recalling the dream. She panted, and couldn't swallow against the dry feeling in her throat.

She tipped her self out of bed and shuffled to the kitchenette for a glass of water. As she drank, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Reflections played across the moving surface of the water she was drinking. She placed it upon the counter, feeling queasy, then picked it up again, feeling absurd. She was stronger than this.

Ariadne moved to walk back into the bedroom and glanced at her reflection in the window. A flash of Mal looked back, wide eyed. Ariadne jolted, the glass slipping from her hands and smashing onto the tile. Was she turning into Mal? Was she Mal reincarnate already? She was too overcome with fear to think straight, and reached out the gather the shards by hand.

The hotel door opened with force, giving her another jolt that sent a shard of glass slicing through her finger.

"OW! Shit!"

"Oh Jesus, Ariadne. What in Gods name happened?"

Big hands covered hers, protecting her from further damage, leading her safely back into the kitchen. Ariadne looked up.

Eames.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to keep you from harm, though I thought that was obvious."

"I mean, what are you doing _here_? Wasn't the team meant to split?"

Eames sat her down on a chair and took our the dustpan. "Cobbs orders. Its tradition to keep an eye on the newbie. And you, duck, are fresh off the boat in our eyes."

"Gee, thanks." She scoffed, gingerly removing the glass from her finger. "I can look after myself, you know."

Eames stood up from where he had begun to sweep the mess. "Oh, believe me, darling. I know. I read your file."

Ariadne looked up, caught his knowing glance, and flushed slightly. "Well, then why treat me like such a baby?"

"Because in this world, you are. No arguments." He silenced her protests and carefully swept the glass into a separate garbage bag. "Now, how about I patch you up while you tell me why you broke a nice hotel glass?"

He produced a bandage from his pocket and gently ran her bleeding finger under the tap. She distracted herself from the sting by talking.

"How do you have gauze in your pocket?"

"We're slightly criminal, love. How could I not? Now, answer my question. Glass?"

"It slipped."

"Very funny." Eames looked her dead in the eyes. "What happened in that pretty little head of yours?"

Ariadne found it impossible to look away, and she cracked. "I thought I saw…Mal."

He stayed silent, allowing her to continue.

"I thought I saw her in my reflection. I don't understand. I – " She broke off, eyes widening. "I'm not dreaming right now, am I?"

The entire unreality of the situation set in her head, and she panicked, lurching away from Eames to her coat. She scrabbled frantically in the pockets, not finding her totem.

"Where is it?" She squeaked, her larynx tightening.

Eames made no move to stop her. He simply sat at the bench where he had before. Ariadne watched as he searched in his pocket before producing a gun…and a coin. With a lazy maneuver that expressed the number of times he had done it before, Eames flicked the coin so it flipped several times in the air before clinking down to the table, settling on one side. He glanced at it before taking his hand off his gun.

"Its reality." He watched her where she had frozen, as if she were a frightened gazelle. "You can check yours if you like."

"No, its reality." She repeated, a small smile upon her face.

"What?" Eames asked in question to her smile, fearing for her sanity.

"Its just strange." She half-laughed. "I always thought your totem would be a poker chip."

He smiled. "Too easy to lose track of. No, this has been in my family for a century."

Ariadne didn't enquire further, and Eames slipped the locked gun and totem back into his pocket.

"I saw her, Eames. Is she in my head?"

"Its just a side effect from the somnacin. It'll fade away." He smiled kindly down at her, before gathering her in his arms. "You're not going crazy, I promise. You're as sane as I am."

She attempted to chuckle into his chest. "Harry Potter rip off."

"Don't knock it, it's a national treasure."


	12. Se ranger

**Se ranger – (French) to get married for domestic comfort and to put life on a regular footing**

Cobb had only been in the dream job for five years when he had first wanted to quit. He had met Mal, the beautiful daughter of his teacher, and he knew where his life was going to take him with her. They had enough money for now to settle down, get married, raise a family, have a domestic life.

He waned to be normal, to live life the way he would have without dreaming. He wanted to buy a house with Ma and quarrel over whose turn it was to cook and clean, only to do it together as a team anyway. He wanted to go to sleep every night next to her, in their bed with sheets that weren't perfectly made every day. He wanted the normal fuss and clutter of a house, a lived in house. He wanted to marry Mal and laugh over the twenty wedding gift toasters they would receive. He wanted to make bread in the wedding gift bread maker. He wanted to see Mals body change with their first child, their second child, maybe even their third child. He wanted to drive the kids to ballet, soccer, school, high school, parks and dances and graduations. He wanted to take the family on day trips. He wanted to get weary with life but never want to change a thing.

He wanted to grow old with Mal. He wanted a normal domestic life.


End file.
